


Flags of Our Fathers

by ScullysRightEyebrow



Category: The X-Files
Genre: Angst, DeadAlive, Season/Series 08
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-25
Updated: 2016-02-25
Packaged: 2018-05-23 03:19:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 767
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6103108
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ScullysRightEyebrow/pseuds/ScullysRightEyebrow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Scully's thoughts at Mulder's funeral.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Flags of Our Fathers

Flags of our Fathers

The snow is packed deeply on this winter afternoon. Just walking to the grave site in my heels proved to be a challenge, and now that I’m standing still, I find the snow almost covering my feet. The coldness is not uncomfortable; in fact, my hands and feet feel now mostly numb. It’s a numbness that I wish extended inward so that I could no longer feel my heart breaking. 

My eyes are closed as the pastor speaks, and I don’t really hear his words. My hand protectively clutches my barely there belly and I’m once again hit by a wave of dizziness. I don’t know if it’s an effect of the pregnancy or me simply crumbling under the weight of my despair, but nevertheless, I sway on my feet. 

Skinner and my mother both instantly reach for me, Skinner grasping my arm firmly while Mom wraps her arm around my waist. My eyes remain closed. 

“She’s okay,” Mom whispers as Skinner lets go of my elbow, but she does not loosen her firm grasp around me. 

Finally, I open my eyes, and my focus is drawn immediately to the flag that is draped over the coffin. After all the talk that went on in the hallways of the Bureau over the years, the nickname that followed him his entire career, and the tarnished reputation; I’m glad that he was at least afforded this small sign of respect. It’s the least that he deserved. 

I realize that the funeral must be winding down when I see the servicemen approach the coffin. They lift the flag and begin the meticulous process of folding it into a tight triangle. 

This was not a moment that I had the presence of mind to anticipate, and my heart leaps into my throat when I truly realize that I’m the only one left. He has no next of kin other than the tiny heartbeat pumping away in my womb, and only three other people at this service know of its existence. And even then, they have no confirmation that this child is his. 

Thankfully, someone, Skinner probably, thought to tell the military representatives that I was to receive the flag. Because Mulder was the last. Because I was the only one left. 

As I see the folded fabric approach me, I think of how many times a flag had been handed over in such a manner. Thousands? Hundreds of thousands? A million times? My mother had received a flag just like this. My brother’s wife or children would receive one. My own child would one day receive my very own Stars and Stripes. At this point, it is basically an everyday occurrence.

So why does it make me feel even more like my world has not only shattered around me, but is consuming me whole? 

With empathy in his eyes, the serviceman presents Mulder’s flag to me. My hands shake as they wrap around it, and the tears that I had so valiantly kept at bay break through.   
I cry silently as I clutch it to my chest. One last reminder that Mulder had been here. That he had mattered. 

********

The sound of my mother’s voice breaks me out of my reverie. I look around and see that people have begun to make their way back to their cars. I had not heard their words of condolences or felt their pats on the back. Maybe the numbness was finally setting in after all. 

“Dana, I’m going to head back to his apartment. I’ll make sure everything is ready to receive guests,” she told me in a low voice as she rubbed small circles on my back.

“Thank you,” I whisper, relieved that she was taking care of things for me. “Please take this with you,” I say as I hand over the flag that I know she will display among the framed photos of Mulder set up at the entrance of his apartment. 

She gives a slight nod to Skinner and he alone remains by my side as I wait for the coffin to be lowered into the ground. 

Click, click, click…

The world around me disappears and I see only the now bare coffin as it begins its slow descent into the freshly dug hole. I feel a part of myself die as well as I stand by and watch my best friend be buried deep in the earth. My lover. My soul mate. The father of my child. He is, was, my everything. 

Fox Mulder isn’t the only one that was buried that day. 

The End

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first X-Files fic. Please let me know what you think! 
> 
> Hopefully this will become a series of "between the scenes" fics!


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